


A Puckle Christmas

by ScribeAzari



Series: Puckle Family AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Puckle Family AU, Slice of Life, fluellen is from henry v just as hermione is from the winter's tale, if the grangers were puckles, still naming based on shakespeare though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 03:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeAzari/pseuds/ScribeAzari
Summary: Christmas of 1987, as spent by Fluellen Puckle. It's a long way to drive from London to Pembrokeshire, but visiting grandparents is a wonderful way to spend the holidays.





	A Puckle Christmas

Warmth suffused the cosy old house, despite the frozen puddles outdoors, and though the sky was cloud-choked, there was light within. Even now, sea birds could be heard calling from time to time, an odd but somehow fitting addition to the Christmas music playing softly from the radio by the tree. There  _ was _ a television in the living room, but it was switched off for now. Fluellen had been watching an episode of Children of the Stones earlier, marvelling at the strange looping of time in the show, but Nanna had turned it off so that they could all come and eat together in the kitchen.

Nanna Elspeth took particular pride in preparing food for them whenever they came to visit her and Granfa Dylan, filling the house with delicious smells. Dad always offered to help cook, not wanting to put everything on his mother, but she’d brush this aside with a wrinkled smile every time and insist that doing so made her happy. Granfa was usually responsible for desserts though, and usually had an anecdote or three from the bakery he and Nanna still kept going while he prepared them, sugar and flour muting the masses of freckles on his worn, pale hands.

There were freckles all over Granfa, as though he’d been given about thirty extra sprinklings compared to anyone else. In some places, he was more freckle than not, though like Nanna his hair was more faded silver curls than the dark brown of Dad’s. They had almost the same soft blue eyes as Dad, though, perhaps a bit closer to grey in Nanna’s case. Fluellen didn’t have blue eyes - Mum’s deep brown ones had expressed themselves instead - but more than a few freckles had joined them.

“Rhys, dear, would you pass the gravy?” Mum had always liked plenty of gravy, as far as Fluellen knew. With both parents distracted, this was an excellent opportunity to sneak some sprouts over to someone else’s plate. A task requiring quite a subtle touch, but one that bore long practise by now. Besides, Granfa could be counted on not to tell - he understood, an indulgent smile setting a twinkle into his eyes while Fluellen offloaded the unwanted balls of future fart.

It didn’t take long for Nanna to embark on one of her rambling tales about things that had befallen her and the neighbours in recent months, genuinely believing that it was interesting. Perhaps the other grown ups might have been following it, but aside from the recollection of the incident of Aunt Morag being tugged over by her over-enthusiastic dog, Fluellen’s interest waned quickly.

Rather more interesting was the array of decorative plates displayed on the wall - why  _ were _ they there? Nobody ever used them, and each one of them held a unique pattern rather than fitting in with a set. One of them seemed to be decorated for a wedding, but as Fluellen was fairly sure nobody in the family had royal connections, it seemed unlikely that Nanna or Granfa had actually been to the wedding in question. Everyone was already too busy eating or talking to ask, though, so a mouthful of succulent turkey would have to do in place of an answer.

Dessert, when it came, was well worth the wait. Granfa had baked pieces of gingerbread into individual sections of what could become a house, just like in Hansel and Gretel, except without the witch. There was icing, too, for mortar, and both chocolate chips and jelly beans to decorate with. Ordinarily, Fluellen didn’t tend to get things quite as sugary as this - just one of the things that came with having dentists for parents - but Christmastime was a well-known exception. Especially at Nanna and Granfa’s house.

Eyes gleaming, Fluellen began to plan out how each piece was to go together, wanting the house to look  _ just so. _ Dad sat on the left, offering advice about how much icing to use to hold the pieces together, while Mum sat on the right to organise the sweet decorations into groups according to Fluellen’s gleeful requests. They shared a smile and a chuckle, while Nanna brightened and announced in delighted brogue tones that she was going to fetch the camera. Her papery old hands looked delicate and pale, almost blue against the solid black of the blocky, angular camera, but her grip was firm and her smile lit up the room.

Nanna adored having photos of Fluellen to hang up, always had. Where there weren’t plates on the walls, there were usually at least a few smiling Fluellens looking out from their frames amongst older photos of Dad and Aunt Morag as children. She and Granfa also had a tradition of hanging up any drawing or painting they were presented with - there was even still a blotchy, potato-like painted dog in orange hung on the garden door that Fluellen had given them at age three. It was one of the things that made coming over feel like coming home, just in a different place than usual.

The excitement wasn’t over with the inevitable demolition of the gingerbread house - no, there was still another highlight awaiting, one Fluellen rushed into the living room to greet as soon as Mum gave the word.  _ Presents. _ Skidding to a sitting halt on the slightly poofy carpet, just inches away from the brightly wrapped presents, Fluellen turned a beaming smile on the adults as they chuckled and took their seats. “Who’s going first?!”

Dad chuckled at this squeaky outburst, exchanging an amused look with Mum. “Oh, I don’t know - what do you think, Coretta?” He teased lightly, watching Fluellen bounce on the spot for a moment or two. He always did something like this, and Mum always laughed a little - it was just one of the little things that made the occasion more complete.

“I think… youngest first.” She smiled, brushing a stray dark braid out of her face as Fluellen squeaked again. Reaching over from where she sat on the squashier sofa, she handed over a very flat package in silvery snow-themed wrapping paper. The sound of Fluellen’s thanks was kind of overridden by tearing paper noises, but the look of delight the reveal brought was thanks enough. There within the torn shreds were the next few books in the Famous Five series they didn’t already have at home.

Nanna was quick to take pictures of Fluellen hugging the new books, and had to be gently nudged by Granfa when it was her turn next, a new watch greeting her. Perhaps understandably, Fluellen didn’t really register the gifts the adults got for one another all that much. Gifts from  _ Fluellen _ to the adults, though, and eager attention was focused almost as though the gifts were for the kid instead of from. They were mostly books, as Fluellen’s usual assumption was that everyone enjoyed a good book, and the adults’ smiles at receiving them were a delight to behold.

Fluellen received another book, too, from Dad - Howl’s Moving Castle. The cover was enthralling, what looked like a tall, round castle striding through a landscape of grassy hills on curved stone legs. What a fantastic image! It was tempting to just dive into it, to devour its mysteries and find out how that castle ticked, but there were still presents yet to unwrap.

The next parcel, Granfa handed over with a grin. It felt like a box, one with a plastic screen wib-wobbing beneath the red and white wrapping paper when poked. What could it be? Tearing it open, Fluellen stared at the contents with an air of baffled surprise. Was that… a Cabbage Patch Kid? Those had never really been of much interest, but… this one looked like Fluellen, kind of.

Its cloth skin was only a shade or two lighter than Fluellen’s soft brown, its fluffy head of dark hair perhaps muted in comparison, but  _ still. _ It wasn’t wearing a dress, either, but blue and white striped dungarees with dinosaurs on them over a cream top. After a moment’s hesitation, Fluellen’s expression softened, and the doll received a warm hug.

Another turn, another box, this one smaller and thinner - what could it be? While Nanna got ready to take another picture, Fluellen tore into the packaging. ...Another doll? This one felt stranger to receive than the Cabbage Patch Kid, for some reason. It was, according to the packaging, a California Dream Christie, from the Barbie line.

The big, fluffed out hair, Fluellen kind of liked, and it  _ was _ kind of nice to have a doll that looked a little like Mum when she didn’t have her hair braided, but… it was hard to muster enthusiasm. Maybe it was the eyeshadow? Fluellen had never really been into Barbies - but nonetheless, Nanna got a smile and thanks for the doll, just like everyone else

The rest of the day, Fluellen spent diving into the worlds of the new books the day had brought, surfacing from time to time for such things as Pictionary. While the lure of literature was strong, it wasn’t allowed to eat too deeply into family time. They couldn’t visit as often as they’d like, due to the time it took to drive all the way up from London, so it was best to make the most of it.

The Royal Institution Christmas Lectures was also worth lifting nose from book - it was all about crystals and lasers this year, and Fluellen didn’t want to miss a moment of it. Fortunately, as they’d already had a large meal at lunchtime, tea was light enough to eat in the living room while watching television. Sat in rapt attention, Fluellen munched through the rarebit almost without noticing.

Eventually, it was time for bed - a little earlier than usual at home, as Nanna and Granfa liked to have an early night. Moving around the room with a smile, Fluellen hugged everyone tight, wishing them goodnight. It had been a long day, but one that had been filled with warmth.

After giving Fluellen time to put everything away and deal with pyjamas and brushing teeth, Mum strode up the stairs as well. Sitting on the bed nearby, she patted the space next to her. “Are you ready for your twists?” Breath freshly minty, Fluellen nodded, sitting beside her and trying to hold still while Mum worked. By the time she was done, Fluellen’s soft hair had become thick, rich brown ropes, ready for bed.

Gently tucking Fluellen and the Cabbage Patch Kid in, Mum smiled tenderly and leaned in to press a little kiss to her child’s forehead. “Goodnight, Fluellanne - sweet dreams.” She murmured, switching off the light as she straightened up to leave.


End file.
